Artist's Interpretation
by MommieJen
Summary: Murdock has a small gift for his blood brother, but what will B.A. Think of it?


_A/N: This idea jumped into my head while reading Shel Silverstein's 'Invisible Boy' poem to my kids. :) And once again, I own nothing._

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Murdock sat in his usual seat in the van, sketchbook in one hand, pen in the other. He was hard at work, drawing at a frantic pace, only pausing occasionally to look at the seemingly empty place on the floor of the van by his feet and smile. Face kept trying to peek and see what Murdock was drawing, but every time Murdock would cover the page with his arms. "Not yet, Face. An artist's work must be the perfect blend of heart, soul, and talent before he shares it with the mere public!"

Face just rolled his eyes dramatically and went back to trying to catch a nap. It was the end of a long week and they were all wore out, all except Murdock, it seemed, and that French accent of Murdock's was about to make Face break out the duct tape. At least his drawing kept him from constantly talking to him. As much as he loved having Murdock around, he had to admit that sometimes he just needed a break for a bit, and this happened to be one of those times. Face leaned back and closed his eyes, only to pop them open a few minutes later when he suddenly realized that Murdock was drawing in the near darkness of the van late at night. 'This should be good,' Face thought as he just shook his head.

The van soon rolled to a stop at a little motel in the middle of nowhere. Usually they would just push through and drive the rest of the way home, but after the week they had endured, a few hours of sleep in real beds would do them all good. Face headed to the front desk to get rooms while Hannibal, B.A., and Murdock grabbed what gear they would need from the van. Murdock was careful to tear out the current page he was working on and slip it into his bag unnoticed.

Face returned with two sets of keys. "Two rooms, two beds each, adjoining rooms," he tossed one set of keys to Hannibal.

"Let's go, men," Hannibal picked up his bag from the ground and started heading towards the rooms. "We all need a few hours sleep."

They headed for the rooms, Hannibal with B.A. and Face with Murdock, same as always. Within seconds, there was a very persistent knocking coming from Face and Murdock's side of the door adjoining the two rooms. When Hannibal opened it, Murdock strolled right carry holding his hands behind his back, grinning ear to ear.

"Oh, B.A.! I have something for you!" Murdock called in a sing song voice as he skipped over to where he sat on the bed, going through his bag.

Face, who had followed Murdock in, and Hannibal both stood behind the Captain. Hannibal's grin around his cigar lit up his whole face. They had to see what was going to happen, plus they knew there was a good chance they would need to separate B.A.'s hands from Murdock's throat.

B.A. merely growled as Murdock presented him with the paper he had been holding behind his back with a flourishing "Ta Da!" Murdock grinned expectantly as B.A. eyed him warily, then unfolded the paper. What he saw was nothing, absolutely nothing.

"Fool, it's just a blank piece of paper!" B.A. had been driving way too long to put the with the crazy man's antics now. He crumpled the paper and bounced it right off Murdock's nose.

Murdock's face fell and he instantly became indignant. "It's a portrait of Billy!"

"No, it's a portrait of what's in your head, Fool!" B.A. stormed to the adjoining door and they all heard it lock from the other side. They could still hear him muttering and threatening Murdock from their side of the wall.

Murdock grabbed the paper and straightened it out the best he could, smoothing all the wrinkles nearly flat. "Hannibal, I know B.A. can't see Billy, so I thought I would draw him a picture. Now he can't even see this?" Murdock thrust the page at Hannibal for him to inspect.

Hannibal looked at the paper, then raised an eye to Face. Indeed, the page seemed to be blank. Face, for once, was speechless. He hadn't figured out if he was supposed to see anything or not. The two men looked at the page again, then at Murdock.

"Captain," Hannibal clasped a hand on Murdock's shoulder. "I am sure that B.A. will appreciate your artwork in due time. But I have to ask, what did you use to draw Billy?"

Murdock looked at Hannibal, then Face. Finally, he raised his eyebrows and with a smirk replied, "Invisible ink."


End file.
